Understand
by When-Words-Fail
Summary: Harry has always expected the worse from people he couldn't trust. But this? He never expected this.


Harry didn't know _what _to do. Sure, he had encountered people crying before, there had been Cho, but he had _never_ before seen _Malfoy_ of all people, break down and _sob_. It was entirely new to him, he didn't know if trying to talk to him would make it better or worse. What should he do? Should he leave? That was the only conclusion he could think of that didn't end up with him being hexed by the other wizard. He _should_ leave, let Malfoy have his privacy, but he found himself unable to move. How often does one see _Draco Malfoy_ crying? Maybe he could use this situation as a way to make amends with his rival? He didn't see what Malfoy was when they were eleven. He didn't see _who_ he was until that year. Malfoy had gotten thin, he had dark bags under his eyes, his skin was paler than usual, his eyes were now gray and haunted where they used to be silver and lively. It was like he was dead on his feat, walking around in a sort of dreamlike state. It was almost like he was under the Imperious curse, only Harry knew he wasn't, because Malfoy was just as cruel as he always was.

Malfoy didn't know Harry was standing there. He didn't know that Harry knew he was crying. Harry still didn't know what to do. He could still leave, but he felt as though he needed to help Malfoy. He needed to do _something. _He couldn't just let Malfoy slowly waste away right in front of his eyes.

"Malfoy?" Harry called, not knowing why he did. Malfoy opened his eyes, and looked right at Harry's reflection in the mirror. "Are you alright?"

"Does it look like I'm alright, Potter?" He snapped.

"No. What's the matter?"

"_What's the matter,_ he says. Everything's the matter, that's what." Malfoy sighed and slid down the wall to the floor.

"Well," Harry started, sitting next to the blonde, "Do you want to tell me about it? Maybe I can try to understand." Harry didn't say 'Maybe I can help' because he knew that Malfoy didn't want to hear that. Harry knew that he didn't want false hope, because Harry didn't know if he would be able to help.

"Just go away, Potter."

"No." Harry said, "You're upset and I want to know why." Malfoy looked at him, his bottom lip quivering, looking like he was about to break down again. Harry just looked back at him, relishing in the raw emotions he saw on the blonde's face. Malfoy was always wearing a mask of indifference, never letting anybody in, not trusting anybody. Harry wanted to be someone Malfoy could trust, he wanted to be someone that Malfoy could turn to if he needed help.

He wanted to be Malfoy's friend.

Harry didn't know why, or when, he had come to that conclusion, but he knew he wanted it to happen. Maybe it was his hero complex acting up, him wanting to help every person who cross his path. Or maybe he felt as though Malfoy just needed one. Harry felt like Malfoy deserved a friend, someone he could rely on, a shoulder to cry on. Malfoy broke their eye contact, looking away and hiding his face. Harry didn't pressure him to look at him, he just sat there until Malfoy decided what he wanted to do. Malfoy stayed looking away from Harry for a long while, his shoulders were shaking slightly. Harry lightly rested a hand on one of his quivering shoulders, and that's the moment that Malfoy finally lost his control. He turned around and clenched the fabric of Harry's shirt in his fists, stuffing his face into the crook between Harry's neck and shoulder. Muffled sobs filled the bathroom, and Malfoy's tears, Harry realized, were wetting his shirt, but Harry didn't care one bit. All he cared about was holding the crying boy in front of him in his arms and comforting him.

"I can't do it." Malfoy sobbed, "I can't. He'll kill me." Harry only held him tighter, letting him speak to his hearts content. And speak he did. It was almost like a dam had burst, Malfoy said so much, so fast, as if he had to tell someone or he would explode.

"I can't do it, I can't kill him. I'm too weak, I'm too weak and he'll kill me and my mother. I can't stand it. He says that I _have _to kill him, that I owe him that much. I'm a disappointment to him. I have to fix the cabinet, I have to kill him. I have to. I _have _to, but I _can't_." This confused Harry. Who did Malfoy have to kill? Who was he a disappointment to? Harry wanted to ask those questions, but Malfoy was already emotionally unstable and Harry didn't want to make it worse. Though he didn't know what the blonde wanted to hear. He didn't know if Malfoy wanted to be reassured, it hear that everything was going to be okay, because they both knew that it wasn't going to be okay. But Harry did it anyways, murmuring sweet nothing's into Malfoy's ear, hoping to calm him down enough to explain what he was so upset over. When Malfoy's sobs had diminished, him only sniffing every few seconds, Harry asked,

"Who... who do you have to kill?" When the words had left his mouth, Malfoy tensed, his grip on Harry's shirt tightening. His breath was coming out in soft pants, and his forehead was rested on Harry's shoulder, hiding his face from view. Malfoy sniffed once. Then he sniffed again. Then he sighed in resignation.

"Dumbledore." The words were uttered very quietly, and Harry almost missed them. Though, he did hear, and was sure that he had misheard something. "I don't want to." The blonde said in a soft voice, "I keep telling myself that I'm going to get help, I'm going to tell someone. Guess I have told someone now. I'm sorry." He then buried his face into Harry's shoulder, as if preventing himself from saying more. Harry didn't say anything. Surely, if Malfoy had wanted to kill Dumbledore, he would have done it by now. It seemed to Harry that the blonde was telling the truth, that he really _didn't _want to kill Dumbledore. Harry lightly pushed at Malfoy's chest with his hands, drawing the Slytherin back so that he could look into his gray eyes.

"And are you going to do it?" Harry asked. Malfoy's eye searched Harry's, looking for something. He seemed to find what he was looking for, because he lightly shook his head and looked away. Malfoy's hands still gripped Harry's shirt, and both boys looked down at them. Malfoy let go of the wrinkled fabric and turned away from Harry, leaning back against the wall once more. He stared at the wall. Harry stayed with him, though he didn't know why. He just thought that Malfoy could use some company.

"He's going to kill her." Malfoy said quietly after a few beats of silence. Harry turned his head and looked at him. He was still staring at the wall. "My mother. Who-Know-Who is going to kill her if I don't kill Dumbledore." He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them. "I don't know what to do."

"We'll tell Dumbledore." Harry decided, "He'll keep her safe. And he'll keep you safe, I promise." Malfoy looked over at him.

"Thank you." He said, his voice filled with emotion. "For everything, really. Uh, sorry." Malfoy reached over and touched Harry's shoulder where the fabric was damp. "I cried on you." His cheeks were tinted pink. Harry noticed that if you looked close enough, you could see a few freckles dotting his cheeks and nose.

"It's okay," Harry assured him, "It feels good to finally let it out, yeah?"

"Yeah." Malfoy smiled at him. It wasn't an evil grin or a smirk; it was an actual smile that seemed to light up his whole face. It made him look younger and is eyes lit up. Harry had to suppress the sudden urge to kiss him. _Pull yourself together_, he thought to himself and looked away from Malfoy.

"This is weird." Harry commented, "I never thought we would ever have a decent conversation." Malfoy chuckled.

"This day is full of surprises." Harry didn't think it was fair for one person to be so attractive. Malfoy's laugh was soft and smooth. If silk could be a sound, that's what Malfoy's laugh would be. Harry really, _really_ wanted to kiss Malfoy at that moment, but he held himself back. It took a lot of effort.

"Let's go talk to Dumbledore." Harry said and stood. He held a hand out to Malfoy, who took at and stood as well. Harry's hand still tingled, even after Malfoy's hand had left his own. They exited the bathroom and venture down the corridor, heading towards Dumbledore's office. Harry looked over at Malfoy and their eyes met. Malfoy smiled at him again, and Harry smiled back. Then, Malfoy stopped walking. Harry stopped as well, looking at him with a confused expression. He turned towards the blonde, who seemed to be thinking hard about something. They were now face to face.

"What-?" Harry's question was cut off, because he found it difficult to speak with Malfoy's lips pressed against his. Harry's eyes widened in surprise. It only lasted a few seconds, then Malfoy pulled away, a horrified look on his face.

"S-sorry!" Malfoy exclaimed. "I didn't mean to-" Harry kissed him again. Malfoy whimpered against his lips and kissed him back. Harry's hands made their way to Malfoy's soft blonde hair, his fingers threading through it and gripping it. Harry broke the kiss and looked at Malfoy. His cheeks were tinted pink again and his gray eyes were dazed.

"Oh." Malfoy said quietly. Harry smiled.

"Oh?"

"I mean... um... oh."

"Oh." Harry repeated, amusement in his voice. Malfoy glared at him, but his eyes were soft. Malfoy kissed Harry again, and this time he did something with his tongue that made Harry dizzy. When they pulled away again, Malfoy looked at him with an expectant look.

"Oh." Harry said and smiled. Malfoy laughed, the sound wrapping around Harry like a blanket. He could get used to this.

-...-

Alas, I am still really bad at writing kissing scenes. I'm such an inexperienced child. Don't judge my innocence! Hope you liked it! Review!

Happy reading,

When-Words-Fail.


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